Propelled Through This Madness
by IronAmerica
Summary: Jeremy takes notes, and he watches.


Hey, it's a new story! Jeremy knows a lot about the two serial killers he lives with.

Un-beta'ed, so quibble away.

- o – o -

Propelled Through This Madness

Jeremy knows his fascination isn't healthy. He watches his case subjects closely anyways, and takes notes. They're too fascinating to _not_ take notes on them, after all. Jeremy often wonders if he should start self-medicating, before discarding that as an incredibly bad idea.

His first subject is Miles. The man was a Marine—an active one, although he's just a Weekend Warrior and in the reserves now, so he can take care of his niece (who really doesn't need it) and his nephew (who probably would be better off if he were in a group home). Miles likes breaking bones and tearing through flesh. He's violent to extremes, and revels in the blood and screams his victims produce.

Miles hauls his victims down to the cellar after successful hunts and ties them to the crossbeam at the far end of the basement. Jeremy sits on the stairs and watches Miles play with his victims, documenting how the man acts and reacts as he tortures whatever poor bastard he hauled back to his lair. Miles' favorite tool—aside from his serrated knife—is a crowbar. He shatters bones and licks blood off some of the wounds, and growls possessively if anyone—even Jeremy, who has permission to watch—gets too close to him while he's working. (The psychiatrist once had the frightening experience of Miles, his employer and occasional lover, slamming him into the wall and beating him senseless. Jeremy had been attempting to deliver breakfast at the time.)

Jeremy occasionally wonders if he has problems, but those are wiped away as soon as Miles surprises him by dragging him into his bedroom or coming into Jeremy's.

Then Bass arrives and everything changes.

Bass is…different. The man is also a former Marine, although he's on what Jeremy thinks is permanent psychiatric leave. (Even being the man's personal shrink, as far as the VA office knows, won't get him access to Bass' files. Jeremy knows. He's already tried that.) Bass stalks around the house like a cat on a hunt for something to play with, or something to eat. The man observes everything, takes notes, makes plans… For the first two or three weeks, Jeremy is sure that Bass just might kill him. Or Danny. Or both of them… Despite the fact that the child still disturbs him somewhat, even after almost four years, Jeremy prays that Bass doesn't hurt the boy. Danny is still, for the most part, an innocent.

Thankfully, Bass ignores the child who hides in the attic until he's called for. Bass ignores anyone he doesn't find interesting, as Jeremy's discovered. The man does, however, like watching his victims do whatever he tells them to, likes watching them die in various ways. He preserves them at the height of their beauty forever. (The beautification routine he puts them through after he's killed them has the added bonus of removing any trace of his DNA, a fact that makes Jeremy laugh.)

Bass starts collecting butterflies and pressing flowers after he starts relocating his kills to Miles' cellar. The man keeps his own souvenirs which are far less identifiable than Miles' family photo album. It is, Jeremy has to admit, a clever way for Bass to disguise what he actually does with his spare time.

Seeing the two serial killers together, though… On their own, Miles and Bass have a tendency to be disorganized and erratic, and far more violent than they would otherwise be. Together…

Together, the two men are a work of art so beautiful almost impossible to describe. The masters of the Renaissance would never be able to match them in any work, no matter what they tried. They would never be able to capture them in picture, because the men are… Well, _god-like_. Miles and Bass together are a work of art, a thing of true beauty. Jeremy feels somewhat honored that he gets to observe them.

Their bedroom dichotomy is just as fascinating as their dichotomy in the cellar. Jeremy sits in a chair in the corner of Miles' bedroom, half-curled on the plush cushions. His notebook rests on his knees, pencil tucked into the spine of the book, ready to be grabbed at a moment's notice. Most nights, though, Jeremy abandons trying to catalogue just how the two men he's starting to love—more than is actually healthy for anyone—and bites his hand as the other dips into his shorts. His notebook often ends up on the floor as Jeremy tries to muffle his own sounds of pleasure. If Miles and Bass notice, they don't say anything.

When Bass loses the fight that Jeremy thinks is a bit too staged to be real, his hands are tied to the bedposts and Miles wraps his fingers around the younger man's throat as he pounds roughly into him. Miles growls possessively and bites into Bass' shoulder and back hard enough to draw blood. Bass whines into his gag, struggling against the ropes or looking over his shoulder to watch Miles, eyes half-lidded, pupils blown wide.

Jeremy spends quite a bit of time figuring out how not to draw attention to himself as he watches Bass come undone.

When Miles loses the fight, Bass takes his belt off and wraps it around the older man's neck, as if Miles were a dog. He pats Miles on the head and calls him a good boy. Miles acts like an obedient dog and does what Bass tells him to. Jeremy breaks several pencils watching the power play, and doesn't even bother opening his notebook anymore if Bass has his "I will win" face on. (Jeremy's slightly disturbed by the fact that he can discern minute differences between various almost identical looks on Bass' face, but he gets a bit too distracted when he sees the look to really focus on the disturbed feeling.)

Jeremy knows his most interesting nights, though, are when Miles and Bass creep into his room when he's sleeping, thinking they're occupied elsewhere. Miles hauls the psychiatrist upright, one hand clasped over Jeremy's mouth to keep him from crying out as he wakes up. Bass undresses the psychiatrist roughly, although Jeremy's shirt is only removed after Miles has found a creative way to gag their all-too-willing captive. (Jeremy buys an actual gag and starts going commando after one too many times of having his boxers shoved in his mouth to muffle his cries during these particular games. He also admits, in his notes—which no one ever reads, because they're rather dry and boring—that he _definitely_ prefers their game of "who's the loudest?" more.)

The two men appreciate Jeremy being so thoughtful and understanding about their power games. Occasionally, the game switches a little. Bass shoves his length roughly into Jeremy's mouth when he and Miles, by mutual agreement, decide not to unclothe their guest. Jeremy feels the slight blush of humiliation creep up his cheeks as the two men take him roughly on his hands and knees, with his pants down around his ankles.

His case studies get increasingly more fascinating as time goes by, although Jeremy stops writing down the nightly encounters. He destroys the notes and any duplicates he has of them.

Some things are too personal for prying eyes.

- o – o -

So, what did you think? Good? Bad? Think Jeremy needs a padded room all to himself? Drop a line and let me know.


End file.
